


the games we play

by theevilcleavage



Category: Elementary (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theevilcleavage/pseuds/theevilcleavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts!AU - Jamie Moriarty has been following her around for quite some time. Joan isn't sure how she feels about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Jamie Moriarty isn’t a good person.

At least, that’s what Joan has been led to believe.

Other than the obvious (that Jamie is a pureblood and a Slytherin), she's also blackmailing half of the school. And though Joan isn’t quite sure what Jamie uses this newfound power for, it probably isn’t for anything good.

Jamie’s personality is also an issue, considering Sherlock can’t stand her. Every time they’re in a room together it’s like World War III. Joan secretly finds the whole thing amusing, since the two of them are so similar and would probably make very good friends, but she keeps all of that to herself. Sherlock would absolutely hate the suggestion.

And the thing is, Jamie tries to get under Sherlock’s skin. It’s almost like she enjoys their arguments, enjoys getting him all angry and flustered. It’s a sort of sadistic pleasure that Joan, for the life of her, will never understand.

Jamie gets under Joan’s skin a lot, too, but Joan isn’t so sure that it’s intentional. They’ve known each other for about a year, and from the start Jamie has continuously sought her out, chatting her up every chance that she gets. At first Joan assumed it was a ploy to annoy Sherlock (which, to be fair, it totally did), but now that it’s gone on for so long, she isn’t so sure. 

Because Jamie is evil, no doubt about it. She’s a terrible person. But she also clearly likes Joan, and follows her around, and smiles at her like she’s the sun. And not that it changes anything, not that she reciprocates Jamie’s interest, but it does make Joan think twice about hating her. 

So when Jamie asks to speak with her after classes on a Tuesday, Joan says yes.

“What’s up?” she asks, keeping her eyes peeled in case Sherlock sees them. He definitely won’t react well if he does.

“I’ve submitted my name to the Goblet of Fire.”

Joan’s mouth opens to offer encouragement, but nothing comes out. Instead she squints.

“Jamie…are you crazy?”

“I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Pleased?” Joan laughs. “This is insane.”

“Why? Because I want to try my hand at eternal glory?”

Joan sighs.

“This is dangerous. Really dangerous. You could die.”

“Oh,” and now Jamie is smiling. “Worried about me, are you?”

“Hardly,” Joan snaps, maybe a little too quickly. “I’m just saying it’s a stupid idea.”

Jamie nods, smile still in place. 

“Duly noted.”

…………………….

When they call her name, Jamie doesn’t celebrate right away. Her eyes flicker towards the Ravenclaw table, darting from person to person until they land on Joan. They stare at each other until Joan forces a supportive smile. It’s only then that Jamie rises and accepts her name from Dumbledore.

“She’s fixated on you,” Sherlock murmurs, taking note of the exchange. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think I like it either.”

The champions are ushered out of the Great Hall and dinner resumes as it was.

…………………..

The first task is dragons.

Real, fire-breathing dragons, barely held back by some cheaply made chains.

There are so many things wrong with this that Joan isn’t sure where to begin. 

“Is Dumbledore crazy?” Joan wonders. Sherlock shrugs.

“Possibly.”

Fleur is up first, and luckily it isn’t too much of a disaster. She spends a lot of time dodging the dragon’s attacks before she retaliates. And though her robes are pretty badly singed by the end, she makes it out alive with the egg.

Then it’s Viktor’s turn. He tries a bunch of tactics (that fail miserably) before he finally changes his game plan. With a swift hex, Viktor stuns the dragon and sweeps across the rocks to grab his prize.

Harry is third. He obviously doesn’t possess the skill set to fight his dragon off, so he summons his broom and flies towards the castle grounds. It is a long time before he returns, fist held high in the air, to claim his egg. 

Jamie is last, and she looks eerily calm when she steps out of the champions’ tent. Her face doesn’t betray a hint of nervousness, and as she approaches the dragon, her steps are carefully measured. Joan has a sudden urge to cover her eyes when the dragon shifts, turning towards his opponent.

And then Jamie, her eyes never leaving the beast, gently places her wand on the ground beside her. 

Joan buries her face in her hands.

“Oh my god. She’s gonna get herself killed.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

“Oh, do calm down. Dumbledore would never allow the death of a student. She’ll live. Probably.”

When the dragon rises to its full height, there is a collective gasp. The Horntail opens its mouth, fixes its eyes on Jamie, and Joan braces herself for the fire. 

Only it never comes.

Instead the Horntail falls, his head bowed, and brushes his face against Jamie’s cheek. Her hands come up to touch his neck and the dragon seems to preen under her attentions, nuzzling closer to her. After a moment Jamie is speaking to him, and the smile on her face doesn’t drop once. 

Finally, after several tense minutes, the dragon moves aside. And Jamie, walking at a slow, casual pace, moves to retrieve the egg.

Sherlock’s mouth falls open.

“You can’t be bloody serious.” 

Joan nods in agreement.

“What the hell just happened.”

When the egg is safely in Jamie’s arms, the crowd erupts in cheers. 

………………………….

 

She is on her way back to the Ravenclaw dorms when she feels a hand on her arm.

“Oh…hi, Jamie.”

“Hello, Joan,” she says brightly, still high off of her win. “Would you like to see my prize?”

“Uh…sure.”

The other girl’s eyes are sparkling as she holds out the golden egg for Joan’s inspection.

“It’s a clue for the second task. Not yet certain how to unlock it, but I’m sure given a few days I’ll riddle it out.” 

Joan turns the egg over in her hands, fingers toying with the opening. 

“Well…good luck with that, I guess.”

She hands the egg back and lets her arms drop to her sides. Jamie shifts.

“Did you at least enjoy the show, Joan?” 

“Did I-?” Joan shakes her head and the laugh that bubbles up inside of her is unexpected. “I don’t think that dragons were an appropriate task for students.”

“And why not?” says Jamie, eyes flaring with curiosity. “They’re really rather friendly creatures, if you know how to handle them.”

“Yeah, about that, how did you even-”

“My brother trains dragons. I learned from him many years ago. The key,” she says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is not to show any fear.”

Joan pulls back, smiling faintly.

“Well, that must be easy for someone who doesn’t experience the full spectrum of human emotion.”

It’s a low blow, totally uncalled for, and if Joan didn’t know any better she’d think that Jamie looks hurt. At the very least Jamie’s smile drops, and Joan feels instantly sorry. 

“Look, Jamie, I’m kind of out of it. Got a headache coming,” she murmurs, raking a hand through her hair. “You should head back to the Slytherin dorms. I’m sure they’re itching to throw a party in your honor.”

And just like that Jamie’s smile has returned, charming and kind of lopsided, enough to make Joan squirm under her gaze.

“And what do I care of parties, when the most interesting person I’ve ever known is standing right in front of me?”

Jamie is now very close to her, too close, and Joan tries not to let her discomfort show.

“I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“Why, the pleasure of your company, of course.”

And there’s that look again, that hopeful look on Jamie’s face that makes Joan second-guess everything she thinks she knows about this girl. 

“Some other time, maybe,” she finally blurts out, and turns away before Jamie can cajole a different answer out of her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: Joan and Sherlock are seventh year students while Jamie is in her sixth year. Jamie has an early birthday, though, which is why she is able to compete. Just in case anyone was wondering!

Joan signs up to tutor underclassmen in Charms. It’s her favorite subject and when Professor Flitwick recommends her for the job, she can’t really say no.

Usually between ten and twelve kids show up, from mixed years, fewer if it’s a Friday. She tries to hold sessions twice a week if she can, but now that she’s a seventh year, her coursework doesn’t really leave her much free time.

Sherlock thinks she’s foolish to take on the job.

“They’re not even paying you,” he’d said, lips twisting in disapproval.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really,” Joan had replied, and she’d continued on with her Potions essay.

She never really talks to Sherlock about it now, and she definitely doesn’t tell him that Jamie Moriarty has started coming to her sessions. She’s not even sure how that conversation would go, and she doesn’t want to be responsible for any casualties should the two of them decide to duke it out. Sherlock definitely wouldn’t hesitate to challenge Jamie to a duel and that is something Joan hopes she never has to sit through.

But Jamie has been showing up for a while now and Joan has no idea why. It’s not like Jamie needs help with any of her courses, and even if she did, Joan figures she’s probably too proud to reach out for it. No, Jamie is here because she’s trying to rattle Joan, to get a reaction out of her.

And it’s working.

“All right, basically the Flame-Freezing charm changes the effects of fire.”

“By freezing people?”

“Oh, oh! By making them immune?”

Jamie is sitting in the back with a quill and scribbles down what looks like nonsense as the kids talk over each other. Her eyes flicker from Joan to her paper, back and forth, and it’s all very distracting. Maybe if Jamie’s gaze weren’t so intense all the time, Joan would be able to focus all right.

“Does it turn people into ice?”

“Well, no, not exactly. It changes the way the fire feels on a person’s skin. Instead of a burning sensation, you’d probably feel a slight breeze. Witches and wizards used it during the Salem Witch Trials to avoid being burned to death.”

“Really?” breathes one of the second years.

“Wow.”

“But we’re kind of off topic, so let’s get back to your upcoming midterm-”

“What other spells did they use back then?”

“Did they have invisibility cloaks? Those are rare I hear!”

“Harry Potter has one."

Joan struggles to quiet them down, amplifying her voice with her wand. It does nothing to help her cause.

“Excuse me,” Jamie finally interrupts, hand held lazily in the air, and somehow her voice silences the rest of the students. “Can I ask a question?”

Joan sighs, both relieved and annoyed, and leans back against her desk. “Sure. Go ahead.” But Joan really doesn’t want her to ask a question. She just wants her sixth year stalker to sit back and shut up.

As though sensing Joan’s discomfort, Jamie straightens a bit and Joan is sure that behind her mask of nonchalance, the other girl is enjoying watching her squirm. “Tell me, Joan Watson…how does one become an Animagus?”

Oh no. No, no, no.

“Ooh, tell us!”

“My father’s heard of those, he said James Potter was one!”

“No way, that’s impossible.”

“It’s true, I swear it!”

“Guys, please settle down-”

“Hey, how do I become one?”

“Can I be any animal I like?”

Across the room Jamie is smirking, and Joan kind of wants to hex her.

………………………

Joan feels blessed when the clock strikes six and she can finally escape the underclassmen. To be fair, they usually aren’t so talkative, but the Yule Ball is coming up and everyone is just buzzing with excitement.

Jamie is still pretending to pack up her things at five after six, probably hoping to catch her tutor as she leaves. Joan saves her the performance.

“Why do you keep coming here?”

“I need help with Charms,” says Jamie, without missing a beat. She’s almost convincing. “I was told this is the place to be.”

Joan scoffs.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just Professor Flitwick and I talk a lot outside of class. Sometimes he mentions his favorite students. He says you’re his most gifted sixth year.”

If Jamie is at all embarrassed about being caught in a lie, it doesn’t show on her face.

“You’re great at Charms,” Joan surmises. “So why are you really here?”

Jamie tilts her head to the side, seemingly impressed by Joan’s powers of deduction. Then she smiles.

“If you must know, Joan…I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.”

And now Jamie is moving away from her, collecting her textbook and quill and probably getting ready to flee. Joan glances over at the younger girl, who up until the end of the session was drawing furiously on a sheet of paper. There is ink all over her hands still, and Joan is struck with an urge to touch them, or maybe clean them off.

Parchment is still littering Jamie’s desk and Joan thinks she sees the outline of a girl, though she can’t be sure. After squinting for a few seconds, she’s sure she isn’t mistaken.

Jamie notices her attention and seems rather pleased by it.

“Would you like to see my drawing?” she asks, brightening. “It’s not quite done, but…”

Joan lifts it up to take a look.

And that’s when she realizes: Jamie has been drawing a picture of her. In the ink Joan is standing, arms crossed, looking very exasperated. The likeness is startling, but more than that there is something really captivating about Jamie’s artistic style. Joan can’t put it into words, but she finds herself quite transfixed.

“You drew a picture of me,” she finally says, an odd lump forming in her throat. “I didn’t know you could draw.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And now Jamie is watching her with those sharp eyes and really encroaching on her personal space, and Joan wants to drop the picture and run.

“Why did you draw me?” she says instead. “I mean, I don’t mind, but…why?”

“Why do you think?” And now Jamie is taking the picture back, setting it on top of her other drawings.

“I’m not sure.”

This earns her a slightly incredulous look.

“It’s no secret I find you interesting,” says Jamie, fingers reaching out to slide up Joan’s arm. “But I hope you know I find you quite beautiful as well.”

Joan shrinks away almost immediately, her skin burning where Jamie has just touched her.

“Thanks, I guess,” she mumbles, because manners are still important after all, and then she is out the door, walking as far away from Jamie Moriarty as she can get. 

………………………….

The holidays are only a few weeks away and Joan can’t wait to be out of classes.

Sherlock wants to head to Hogsmeade before Christmas and spend a day walking around all of the shops. It’s the best proposition Joan has gotten in a while, and she’s really looking forward to it, especially to the Butterbeer. She just hopes Sherlock doesn’t bring his tiny container of bees with them. She doesn’t want them attacking her drink.

“You were skeptical about Clyde as well, if I recall,” Sherlock says, warming his hands by the common room fire. “And you’ve grown to like him. You will take to my bees eventually."

Joan wants to protest, but then Clyde slowly travels across the couch and onto Joan’s lap, and she smiles instead. 

“Have you given any thought to the Yule Ball?” Joan asks, suddenly curious. “I’m probably not going, but are you gonna ask someone?”

“Perhaps.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Sherlock sighs and Joan knows not to push the issue.

……………………………

Viktor Krum has been following Joan around lately.

Which, you know, wouldn’t be all that weird…if he didn’t have twenty fangirls trailing behind him at all times. And yes, Joan gets that he’s famous, but she doesn’t really go to Quidditch games (she’s more into baseball) and she figures even famous people are entitled to their privacy.

Viktor is very sweet, though, despite his train of groupies, and he seems to really like watching her read books in the library. Every so often she feels guilty, because the poor guy must be bored just sitting around, so she’ll invite him to study with her for a bit. He lights up whenever she makes the suggestion and immediately moves to sit next to her. And if she ever stands up to grab another quill or head to the bathroom, Viktor stands up, too, and doesn’t sit until she’s out of sight. Maybe it’s a little old fashioned, but Joan thinks it’s charming.

She would ask Sherlock his take on Viktor’s interest in her, but she hasn’t seen him around a lot. Come to think of it, he really hasn’t been studying with her lately (not that he studies much at all), and she has yet to figure out what he’s been up to. But he’ll come clean soon enough. He hates keeping secrets from her.

“Joan?” Krum says. It’s getting late and they’re about to finish up in the library. “That girl does not like me.”

“Viktor, every girl likes you.”

“No, that von does not.”

Joan looks up from her textbook to see who Viktor is talking about and her eyes fall on Jamie Moriarty. And Jamie looks like she wants to rip out Viktor’s throat and feed it to Fluffy. It’s more than a little disconcerting and Joan understands Viktor’s trepidation. Although Joan can’t help but notice that even angry, Jamie Moriarty is a very pretty girl.

“Hey, ignore her. She’s just my stalker.”

And so is Viktor, she thinks. She’s attracting them like flies.

…………………………..

The Yule Ball is fast approaching and Joan can’t wait for the whole thing to blow over.

The awkward waltz lessons aside, Joan isn’t all that keen on dancing with some guy in front of the entire student body, not to mention every professor she’s ever had. That sounds like the worst kind of nightmare.

And it’s not that no one has asked her to the ball. She’s had three Hogwarts boys approach her and she won’t be surprised if a few more give it a try in the next two weeks. But Joan is determined not to let any of the attention sway her into going. She has zero interest. None.

The rest of the Ravenclaw girls are going batshit crazy over what to wear and who to take. They’ve been chattering nonstop about it and Joan’s tolerance for this sort of thing is really wearing thin.

The only positive thing to happen recently is that Sherlock has come out of hiding. He still won’t talk to her about why he’s been AWOL, though, and she’s itching to get answers.

They’re eating dinner in the Great Hall when Sherlock finally decides to come clean.

“I asked a girl to the ball.”

“What?” Joan’s mouth falls open. “Well, what did she say?”

“She agreed to go with me.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! Congrats.”

“It’s nothing.”

Sherlock is trying to act indifferent about it, but he looks quite pleased with himself and Joan is proud of him.

“So who’s the girl? I thought you were oh so superior to everyone else. That no one’s brains could possibly match yours.”

“Well, it seems I have been proven wrong.”

Joan is about to respond when a girl walks into the Great Hall and catches Sherlock’s eye. They smile at each other kind of shyly for a while and Joan inwardly kicks herself.

“Hermione Granger. I should have known.”

……………………………

Exams are over and nearly all of the students at Hogwarts are spending the holidays at school. Joan doesn’t see the point in going home, since it’s all the way in the States, but then her mother sends her a very long letter about how much she misses her, and Joan promises to head home for at least a few days in January. Besides, Joan figures it wouldn’t be so bad to have internet access for a while. Hogwarts is definitely lacking in that one area.

Joan is actually considering going home for Christmas, too (and skipping the Yule Ball drama), when she runs into Viktor in the Great Hall. He greets her with a hug before they sit down.

“Hey Viktor, what’s up?”

“Up?”

Joan grins.

“I mean, how are you?”

“Oh!” he nods in understanding, taking a seat next to her. “I am good.”

“Cool.”

Krum reaches forward to grab her hand and she lets him. She knows where this is going.

“Joan, I was vondering-”

“Well hello, Joan Watson.”

And wow, that is the last voice she’d expected to hear this early in the morning. Joan finds herself cringing. She’s about to reject Viktor and now Jamie Moriarty has showed up to make an awkward situation way more awkward.

“And Viktor,” Jamie says, eyes trained on him in an almost predatory way. “What a lovely surprise. I’m Jamie. Not sure we’ve met before. Such a large school and so few opportunities to make new acquaintances.”

Her voice is syrupy sweet and more than a little unnerving. Joan wants to tell her to cut it out.

“So,” Jamie says, smiling at a clearly uncomfortable Viktor Krum, all white teeth and sharp eyes. “What did I interrupt?”

“Actually,” Viktor says, gaining back some of his confidence. “I was about to ask Joan about ze ball-”

“The ball? Oh, yes, that dreadful thing. Normally I wouldn’t attend such an event, too ostentatious for my tastes, but all champions are required to. Mais c’est la vie, I suppose.”

The French pronunciation is perfect, because of course it is, and that only makes Joan that much more annoyed with her.

“So who are you going with?” Joan asks, just to shut Jamie up. “Anyone I know?”

Jamie leans forward so that her face is only inches away. Her breath is warm, sort of cloyingly sweet, and Joan moves back a bit.

“That’s actually why I’m here, darling.”

And wait…she can’t mean…

No. No way.

“Fat chance. Not in a million years.”

“But you might enjoy yourself. I’ve been told I’m quite the dancer.”

“I’m sure you are. But Jamie, no.”

“It’d certainly be a memorable night, just the two of us…dancing, laughing…” Jamie’s fingertips drag lightly along Joan’s arm. “Making new discoveries.”

Joan pulls away.

“No.”

“Oh…not even if I begged?”

The suggestive lilt in her voice is enough to get under Joan’s skin, and just for that she turns to Viktor, who seems to have barely followed their conversation, and smiles.

“Viktor, were you about to ask me to the ball?”

He hesitates, but then nods, offering her a shy smile. Joan takes his hand in hers and squeezes it. But her eyes are trained on Jamie when she says,

“Then I’d love to go with you.”

Viktor grins, and Jamie’s scowl, barely concealed behind her mask of indifference, is delicious.

Joan thinks the Yule Ball might not be so bad after all.


End file.
